IVAN POV
Tag'arkh stood eerily still, her back rigid, and her amber eyes locked onto me as I recounted everything that had happened—just as she had instructed. Her fiery aura, usually a soft and glowing light, now burned hotter, crackling faintly as it licked the air around her like a predator testing its chains.
The air between us felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension, as if the room itself was bracing for an outburst. I tried not to falter under her gaze. My voice, steady at first, cracked when I reached the part about the twins—how they'd fallen ill, how nothing we tried had worked, and how the healers refused to intervene, whispering curses of divine punishment under their breaths.
Tag'arkh's flame burned even brighter. I saw it in the way the embers at her feet turned molten, the way her fiery hair seemed to lift and twist as if stirred by an invisible wind. She didn't interrupt, didn't utter a single word, but her silence was louder than any outburst could have been.
